vendredi, le 23 février
"...."
"Blossom?"
"...."
"Blossom?"
"...."
"Blossom?"
"......"
"....."
"I'm sorry. Yes?"
"You've been stroking me for over ten minutes. Can you put me in your mouth now?"
Things not to ignore:
-Chocolate (Mmm...)
-A taxi (especially if G is in it....He's so warm)
-A set of lingerie from N (That sweet boy...he always knows what I like)
-A hardcore porno specially gotten from N (He's heir to a porn empire, what did you expect? Flowers?)
-N (or G, for that matter)
-A client, especially when you're on the job.
lundi, le 26 février
To distinguish from all the rest:
-I don't look like a whore. (My makeup is light)
-I don't act like one. (Until I get to the bed, of course.)
-I don't dress like one. (I dress warm, thanks.)
To distinguish me, look for:
-The barest amount of cleavage
-Designer clothing
-Pink hair
-High heels
-Huge handbag
mardi, le 27 février
Many of my old female friends (This was before I got into selling sex, and no, I never told them) would tell me how stressful and tiresome their jobs were.
I could see that. All they did was sit behind a desk for eleven hours typing and ransacking their brains to finish some report that's due in five minutes to hand to their boss, going through gallons of coffee and rush-inducing foods that only get them fat in one sitting.
Ew.
I find it hard to even keep the pounds on.
They laughed at me for seeming to do nothing; as a matter of fact, I wasn't. I think that was one of the reasons I lost them all as friends…?
If their jobs were stress-inducing, surely mine were stress-relieving. My job is probably more tiring then theirs.
…Still. They were the ones crushing on the gorgeous hot teacher in seventh grade who taught science, while I was the one fucking him behind closed doors. They didn't bother to try and make a move, just hand him things and giggle mindlessly as you watched the slightly odd stiff way he walked down the hall, me a couple dozen paces back, practically staggering and spent.
Ah, those were the days.
jeudi, le premiere mars
The traffic in London is unpredictable. I had twenty minutes to spare, so I ducked into a tiny little café two minutes away from the hotel.
As I sipped my coffee, I watched a couple by the window, girl snuggled up to boy, boy possessively hugging her with one arm.
Sickeningly cute. Both the girl and boy look daft and happy.
I'm not a bitter person at all, just that displays like that makes me want to vomit up a cat.
Later…
By the time I'm up in hotel room number 989, walking in is like a breath of fresh air.
"Hello, darling, I'm sorry to make you wait."
The man is a handsome one, I admit. Looks somewhat like G's older brother, except this male has blue eyes.
"That's alright. Tea? Water? Martini?"
"Just water, thank you."
We strip, and fuck. He told me he liked the submissive female, so I did that. Mewling and crying out and whimpering and all. We finish, and clean up. We watched the Discovery Channel for the rest of the hour.
"I wonder if it got cold, wearing only jewelry that barely covered your parts."
"It probably was. All the men must have had constant hard-ons. But then only wearing jewelry to cover up would make it easier to access, wouldn't it?"
"Then you could just come up and insert and have no need to take off clothes."
Even later…
Met G outside. Me and him walked down the street in silence, my head on his shoulder, his head on top of mine, arm around me.
G is so sweet. He is the best friend I could ever have. London makes you feel so small and insignificant, but having a best friend who knows you inside out makes you feel secure.
vendredi, le 2 mars
No appointments, so I spent the entire day with N and G and S2.
…I had forgotten how queer S2 is.
dimanche, le 4 mars
My manager is an absolute doll, incredibly sweet. She's probably a few years older than me. She's so shy-seeming it's impossible to tell she helps sell sex, let alone have sex at all. She looks too damn innocent.
She's absolutely gorgeous. Her skin is pale as snow. Her eyes are a cross between liquid silver and bright lavender. Huge assets. Her hair is like ink.
She doesn't keep track of time. That's her only fault.
I adore her, though.
"Hello?"
"Darling, there's a regular wanting you this afternoon. Three o'clock."
"But its two now! I need longer notice!"
"It is? I'm sorry, but he's already on his way over."
"Oh, alright."
I love her to pieces, but she is terrible at time in general.
One time she called me to lunch with her at three AM.
lundi, le 5 mars
Note: Remember to never, never, never perform oral after using a condom. Ever.
My lips are swollen to the size of sausages.
-紅-
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